Second Battle of Bedriacum
Othonian forces make a desperate last stand against the Vitellian legions at dusk, amidst the burning remnants of their camp fortifications near Cremona. The Othonians are outnumbered and exhausted, f
Setting
A battlefield near Cremona, Italy during dusk. The scene is chaotic, with the remnants of Othonian forces making their last stand against the advancing Vitellian legions. The ground is uneven, littered with bodies, broken weapons, and smoldering camp fortifications.
Characters
Othonian Centurion
primary
A battle-hardened officer in his late 30s, with a muscular build and numerous scars from previous campaigns. His face is weathered by years of military service, with a broken nose and a permanent squint from staring into distant battlefields. His short-cropped hair is streaked with gray, and his forearms bear ritual tattoos marking his legionary service.
Vitellian Tribune
primary
A young aristocrat in his mid-20s with a lean but muscular build from military training. His clean-shaven face bears a fresh scar across his left cheekbone from recent combat. Piercing blue eyes survey the battlefield with calculated intensity. His dark brown hair is cropped short in military fashion, slightly disheveled from the helmet he's removed.
Othonian Legionary
secondary
A grizzled veteran in his late 30s with a muscular but now exhausted frame. His face is streaked with dirt and blood, with deep-set eyes that have seen too many battles. A fresh wound on his left thigh seeps through the bandage, and his right arm bears old scars from previous campaigns.
Vitellian Standard Bearer
secondary
A battle-hardened soldier in his late 30s, with a muscular build from years of military service. His face is weathered and tanned from exposure to the elements, with a short, practical beard and close-cropped hair. His hands are calloused from gripping the standard pole, and his posture is rigid with discipline.
Camp Medic
background
A wiry Gallic slave in his late 30s, with short-cropped dark hair matted with sweat and blood. His face is streaked with soot from the burning camp, and his forearms bear old scars from years of treating battlefield wounds.
Dialog
Othonian Centurion
By Dis Pater's balls, stand firm you dogs! Die on your feet, not your knees!
Vitellian Tribune
Centurion, how quaint to see peasants still playing at war. Does your Otho pay extra for this pathetic display?
Othonian Centurion
Come closer, pretty boy. Let's see how your rhetoric holds against Spanish steel.
Vitellian Tribune
How very... direct. Tell me, does your mother know you waste her sacrifices on doomed causes?
Othonian Centurion
Brothers! One last push for the man who actually fought beside us!
Vitellian Tribune
How touching. Let us end this farce - loose arrows!
Othonian Centurion
Jupiter take you all...